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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882626">Crouching Pirate, Hidden Spymaster</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SifaShep/pseuds/SifaShep'>SifaShep</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Trippy's Trip Across Azeroth [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Multi, POV Original Character, azeroth from a different POV, pre relationship fairshaw, set in BFA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:27:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SifaShep/pseuds/SifaShep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Trippy the Mechagnome Monk journeys from Mechagon to the rest of Azeroth. She meets many of World of Warcraft's important personages...mostly by accident This series is set between BFA and Shadowlands. </p>
<p>Trippy's first stop is Kul Tiras. She meets a certain ex-pirate and a certain Alliance Spymaster. This is pre-relationship Fairshaw, after the Treasury Heist but before Shadows Rising.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Trippy's Trip Across Azeroth [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041573</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Good Luck or Bad Luck Charm?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title is based off one of my favorite movies, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." Since Trippy is a monk, I thought the title fits.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The setting sun hovered over Dampwick, turning the sky orange and throwing shadows in the alleyways outside the pub. The district came to life when the day’s shadow grew long. Miscreants and mercenaries, thieves and hooligans of all stripes and sorts. The bells rang over the marketplace to mark closing time. Vendors boarded up their stalls and counted up their coins. No one wanted to linger any longer than necessary.<br/><br/>Of course, those were the ones who ran an honest business. The other kind, well, they were just getting started.<br/><br/>Tripwyre Cracklefist lingered at one of those last stalls. The Mechagnome blinked over the little charms and pendants in their boxes. The servos in her hand whirred as she examined every piece. Seashells, seahorses, even a manta ray. There was a tiny little globe with a glass ship in it that bobbed this way and that way on a sea of blue water. Every item had been crafted with a loving hand.<br/><br/>“Havin’ trouble decidin’ on a charm, luv?” The Kul Tiran seller stood at least six times her size, with a thatch of hair the color of a rusted pipe. The blue eyes watched her, but also watched the growing shadows around his stall.<br/><br/>“They are all exquisite,” she admitted. Her modulated voice didn’t hide the wistful tone. “It is difficult to focus on just one.”<br/><br/>“Well, might help if you got an intention in mind.”<br/><br/>She blinked in confusion. “I do not understand.”<br/><br/>“Well, we Kul Tirans are a bit of a superstitious lot, you know. Ships don’t sail without a Tidesage on board, sailors don’t leave without a bundle of sea stalks in hand.” The seller shrugged. “Dunno what you believe in, but maybe you need something for luck? For protection? Tryin’ to find that special someone in your life?”<br/><br/>Trippy inclined her head. The Monastery of Eternal Gears on Mechagon was a practical order, and she even wore its symbol of a gear around her neck. Enlightenment through the joining of the organic and the mechanic. Such mysticism really didn’t compute in her way of thinking.<br/><br/>Nevertheless, that was not the way here in Kul Tiras.<br/><br/>“I was sent here on a mission through Azeroth, to learn from its people,” she said. “I have never left our island before this.”<br/><br/>The man thought for a moment. “Ah, so you’re on a long journey! Well, I’ve got the perfect charm for you, then.” He looked through his selection of wares, then pressed a lucky charm into Trippy’s hand.  “There ya go, love.” “Genuine wicker charm to keep ya safe in these troubled times.”<br/><br/>Tripwyre Cracklefist held up the little charm to her eyes. Tiny little thing, with crisscrossing sticks in a pleasing pattern, all held together with spit and bailing wire. How was <em> this </em> supposed to protect her on her journeys? Nevertheless, she strove to be polite.<br/><br/>“Thank you.I will treasure this always.”<br/><br/>He nodded and said, “You’re welcome. You’d best be on your way, lass. Dampwick’s not a place to linger in after dark.”<br/><br/>She nodded and slipped the charm over her head. The wicker charm rested next to the little gear on its silver chain. Her mechanical body was sturdy enough to withstand dragon fire, fel bombs and arcane blasts, but she wasn’t keen on testing it against cannonfire from a pirate ship. Trippy waved at the seller and went on her way.<br/><br/>She had to admit...Kul Tiras was most impressive. Her people had been isolated from the rest of the mainland for centuries, until Prince Erazmin and High Tinkerer Gelbin Mekkatorque reunited their people. Trippy had volunteered to be one of the first to explore Azeroth.<br/><br/>Whatever she expected from Kul Tiras, this was <em> not </em>it. She missed Mechagon, the hum of machinery, the whirr of inventions. The hovering practice bots at the Temple of Eternal Gears. </p>
<p>Not the same.</p>
<p>She rubbed her aural implants, A neural line connected both silver discs directly to her brain. Her enhanced hearing caught the chirp of seagulls and the gentle lap of water alongside the ship. Her internal sensors reassured her that the weather was within acceptable parameters. Cloudy, with the chance of rain. Seventy-two point three chance, at that.<br/><br/>Maybe it would get better as time went on. After all, this was her first trip outside the island. The Kul Tirans weren’t a bad lot. They seemed hospitable. Boralus was a port city, which meant ships, sailors, trade, culture. Pirates too, though most of the pirates looked nothing like she imagined them to be.  She’d read stories of exploits on Mechagon, but most of those were dry accounts of who, what, where, when and why. Facts, just the facts, which was the lifeblood of Mechagnome people. </p>
<p>Trippy wanted more than dry facts. She wanted to experience it all. The salt air, the hustle and bustle of Boralus, the food. Lots of food. </p>
<p>Trippy <em> loved </em> food, all the colors and textures and flavors. Granted, her mostly mechanical body didn’t need that kind of nutritional nourishment. It wasn’t the caloric intake. It was the <em> experience </em>that still thrilled her.</p>
<p><em> This </em> was why she was <em> here </em>, in the Dampwick District, and not in any of the usual Alliance places in Boralus. Her gears whirred as she climbed the steps into the Salt and Shanty. Dampwick’s most notorious pub usually sported a who’s who of Kul Tiran denizens, but custom was light tonight. A group of sailors gathered at the bar, laughing and toasting each other. Other patrons sat in booths and lounged around, as if looking for trouble, should it come their way.</p>
<p>She turned her head as she heard a quiet scrape of fingernails. She noticed a young lad at the doorway. He watched the street outside with all the intensity of a hawk. Trippy let her vision expand to include the street, but she only saw normal foot traffic.<br/><br/>Normal for Dampwick, she assumed, if you counted shadows skulking about. And boy, there were a lot of shadows outside. </p>
<p>She settled into her usual table near the bar. Tabitha the barmaid sidled up to her. “Oi, love, you’re back! Y’want the special?”<br/><br/>“Please,” she said.<br/><br/>Tabitha winked and went back to the kitchens. “Hey, the robot gnomie is here and she wants the special!”</p>
<p>“Tell ‘er she’s welcome and I’ll fire up the oven just for her!”<br/><br/>Trippy smiled and settled back. Maybe she could learn to enjoy the journey.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>An hour later, Trippy looked at the pile of plates on her table. Oh, how delightful. Three different kinds of meat dishes, <em> eight </em>different fish dishes, and the ales and the brews! It made her little Brewmaster heart go pitter-patter with joy.</p>
<p>“He show up?” a voice hissed from one of the booths. The boy standing lookout shook his head. “Keep an eye out, then!”</p>
<p>Trippy wondered what that was all about, then the barmaid slid a plate of steaming clams in front of her and that concern flew out of her head. Oh, lovely!<br/><br/>“Thank you, Tabitha!” She grinned at the arrangement of meat in the little shells, all on a bed of watery greens, and garnished with what she assumed was lemon slices. There was even a little Kul Tiran flag on a toothpick speared into a clam in the middle. </p>
<p>“Oi, lass, don’t they <em> feed </em>ya where ya come from?!” Tabitha stared at the pile of plates already on the table. </p>
<p>“Hey, she’s eatin’ my grub, Tabitha, that’s all that matters!” Cook leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, a wide grin across his face. “Little lady packin’ it in like a sailor four times her size! I ain’t complainin’ one bit!”</p>
<p>Trippy had learned that if you smile wide enough, people like you. So she smiled at Cook and tucked into the clams. Tabitha patted her on the head and went to the next table. She got through a quarter of the clams before the lookout waved frantically from his post.</p>
<p>Three seconds later, a man staggered into the Salt and Shanty. Big, broad Kul Tiran, with a long coat and a magnificent mustache. His hair was about three shades lighter of a red than Trippy’s own. There was a rather impressive cutlass hanging from the man’s belt, as well as a pistol. A seashell necklace hung around his neck.</p>
<p>An honest-to-Gears Kul Tiran pirate. Her <em> first </em> sighting of a real pirate. This man was a <em> real </em> pirate. Trippy stared at him, stared at him some more. He just seemed...underwhelming compared to the stories she’d heard.  Where was the eyepatch? The peg leg? The colorful bird?<br/><br/>No pirate shouldn’t be without a colorful bird.</p>
<p>“Hey, Tyrus, did you miss me?” He swaggered up to the bar, looking like every bit the scoundrel. Yet his eyes scanned the room without any kind of drunken haze. Trippy’s gaze met his and she thought she saw a sparkle in his eye.</p>
<p>“Fairwind, you rascal! Where’ve you been?” Tyrus the barkeep laughed and immediately took down a bottle of rum and a pair of glasses from the shelf. “And where’s your Alliance man? He busy like usual?”</p>
<p>“Been here and there, Tyrus! Two weeks out to the islands, just got back, <em>Middenwake</em>’s in port. Pour that rum, let’s get this party started!”</p>
<p>A roar of approval came from the denizens of the bar. Trippy sat and munched on her clams as she watched the festivities. A definite scoundrel, but there was a charm to the man that was almost mesmerizing. His lilting accent, the rise and fall of his voice, the scoundrel just <em> oozed </em> charisma. She had also noticed that this Fairwind had made no comment about this 'Alliance man'. A pirate with connections to the Alliance? That was just...illogical.<br/><br/>But she had learned that Kul Tirans were not quite logical. Or to be more precise, their logic was not the same as Mechagnome logic.</p>
<p>He sauntered over to her side of the bar and peered down at her with a broad smile. The bright blue eyes sized her up with a single glance, took in her green leather vest and leggings and her red sash around her waist. If he was disturbed by her mechanical appendages, he didn't show it.</p>
<p>“Mechagnome, eh? Don’t see much of your kind in Kul Tiras.”</p>
<p>“This is my first week here.” Trippy found herself mirroring that broad smile. What did this man have, some sort of glamour? Was he some sort of mage or warlock in disguise? Her sensors didn't detect any magic or any sorcery around him. </p>
<p>“Well, looks like you’re getting a bit of Kul Tiran hospitality, then!” He laughed and extended a hand. “Captain Flynn Fairwind, at your service.”</p>
<p>“Tripwyre Cracklefist, but you may call me Trippy.” There was a definite strength in that handshake, his grip firm, the hands strong from hauling ropes and steering a captain’s wheel. She was suitably impressed.</p>
<p>“Pleased to meet you, Trippy Cracklefist. A monk, I see?”</p>
<p>She blinked. Flynn was more observant than she expected. Most people didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Yes, from the Monastery of Eternal Gears.”<br/><br/>“They have a <em> monastery </em> in Mechagon? Now <em> that’s </em> something you don’t hear about every day.” Flynn leaned against the booth with a curious expression. “What’s it like?”</p>
<p>Trippy blinked again. He wanted to know about the <em> monastery </em> ?  “Well...it is not very big. Lots of machines, like the rest of the Mechagon, but we try to find a little bit of serenity in it all. It can be a bit...noisy.”<br/><br/>He chuckled. “I can imagine. Well, Trippy Cracklefist, welcome to Kul Tiras. Not everyone’s as rowdy as say, Tyrus here--”<br/><br/>“Hey, now, look who’s talkin’.” Tyrus said with a laugh. “You get into more trouble than the rest of us put together. You’re lucky you got that Alliance man of yours to get you <em> out </em> of it!”<br/><br/>Again, the reference to the 'Alliance man', and this time, Flynn winced a little. “Yeah, well, I’ve been trying to be good. Trouble does seem to find me, though.”<br/><br/>“Trouble follows you around. Speaking of which, you want the honors of opening this new bottle of rum? First of a shipment out of Zandalar.”<br/><br/>“Not gonna turn down free alcohol.” He winked at Trippy. “How ‘bout you sit closer to the bar? Maybe I can regale you with a tale of my travels.”<br/><br/>She smiled and hopped down to the floor. To her surprise, the big Kul Tirans made room for her.  She sat on the polished wood as Flynn opened the rum bottle. He made sure everyone had at least a good sized shot of the alcohol to savor.<br/><br/>Trippy took a sip. Her taste receptors registered it as quite strong, quite strong indeed. Her eyes widened and she coughed a little.<br/><br/>“Whoa, easy now. That’s strong stuff if you’re not used to it.” Flynn patted her on the back.<br/><br/>She nodded and blinked hard. He seemed like the type who took care of people, even if he was a pirate. “I am fine.”<br/><br/>When everyone was settled, he launched into a tale of his latest island adventure. The glass of rum was almost forgotten as she listened.</p>
<p>“There we were, mates, surrounded on all sides, cannon fire roaring all round, and one went <em> this </em> close past my head—“ Fairwind demonstrated, with a whistle for effect, “—almost took my noggin right off, it did, buried itself in the deck, then we all heard the boots of the privateers on the deck, the leader in a huge red coat and brandishing a cutlass the length of my arm, rears back his head and screams out—“</p>
<p>The door to the Salt and Shanty burst inward as if that cannonball had torn through it. Trippy’s eyes widened as a man hobbled in on a blunted peg leg. That coat sported several rips and tears.</p>
<p>His mustache was long enough to touch his shoulders. One eye squinted in the dim light of the bar; the other was covered by a patch of leather.<br/><br/>Now <em> this </em> was a real life pirate, even still minus the bird.<br/><br/>The pirate swung that long cutlass (Fairwind hadn’t been exaggerating the length of it)  in the direction of the bar and roared,</p>
<p>“FAIRWIND!”<br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Pub Brawl, All Welcome!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Exactly what the chapter says on the tin.</p><p>Trippy fights side by side with Flynn. Brewmaster Monk plus an Outlaw Rogue, what could go wrong?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A homage to some of the martial arts fights in my dad's favorite movies. xD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chairs scraped the floor as the patrons jumped to their feet. Steel rang out as swords were drawn. The Salt and Shanty Brigade grabbed knives, pistols, frying pans, anything within reach.  Tabitha dropped her trays and ducked behind the bar. The young boy who had stood lookout ran out of the bar and into the night, all but forgotten. <br/><br/>Anyone who lingered outside the Salt and Shanty cleared out within minutes. Help wasn't going to come anytime soon.</p><p>Trippy reached over to her pack and grabbed a small keg. With a flourish of her mechanical hand, she cracked it open and gulped down a bit of Ox brew. Her first pub brawl! This was so <em> exciting </em>! They never had these in Mechagon…at least until the adventurers from the mainland had come to help Prince Erazmin. Then there was all sorts of chaos introduced into their orderly lives.</p><p>Flynn stood up from his seat. He didn’t seem surprised at the interruption.  “Right, right, I think that’s my cue—“ </p><p>“Who the hell did you bring to my pub, FAIRWIND?” That came from Tyrus the barkeep. He armed himself with a cutlass in one hand and a pistol in the other.</p><p>“Ah, Tyrus, this is Mad Dog Burns. Mad Dog Burns, Tyrus.” He grinned and raised his hands. “Look, sorry about the coat, but c’mon! Accidents <em> do </em> happen. Don't blame you for being a bit tetchy; I’m pretty attached to my own coat, y'know.  How about we get off on the right foot this time, right? Lemme buy you a drink? Let bygones be bygones.”</p><p>Mad Dog Burns wasn’t having any of it. “GET ‘IM!!”</p><p>Four men in assorted pirate rags rushed into the bar.  Two big Kul Tirans, a Goblin with mismatched rings in his ears, and even a Worgen with a mermaid tattoo in his fur. She was impressed by the motley assortment of pirates.</p><p>“Oh hell.” Flynn shrugged, grinned at Trippy and said, “Well, I tried.”<br/><br/>Mad Dog Burns roared and rushed them. They glanced at each other, then Trippy darted one way, Flynn the other. She stuck her mechanical foot out so the pirate stumbled over it. He literally spun round on his one peg leg, his arms windmilling like a druid in eagle form, but Mad Dog Burns didn’t fall on his face as she’d hoped. For a man of quite a wide girth, he was surprisingly nimble.<br/><br/>"You...you..." He sputtered. He glared at Trippy and shouted, "GET 'ER TOO!"<br/><br/>Cook scowled at Mad Dog Burns. He brandished a meat tenderizer in one hand and a rolling pin in the other. Cook's two assistants gripped a steaming pot of aromatic fish oil as if it contained hot tar. Trippy took one whiff of it and wished she could shut off her smell sensors.<br/><br/>"Uh-uh, ain't touchin' 'er! Ain't no one who likes my cookin' as much as 'er! Salt 'n Shanty, let's kick 'em where the sun don't shine!"<br/><br/>The entire pub burst into one hell of a fight, as more of Mad Dog’s ruffians burst in through the windows. Shattered glass rained on them all; Trippy raised an arm to protect her eyes. Someone yelled as they tumbled over the upstairs railing to the street below. Half of the Salt and Shanty Brigade was already drunk; most of the pirates weren't exactly sober, either. <br/><br/>Trippy punched, kicked, whirled, knocked her staff against a pirate head or two. She darted from side to side, breaking beer casks over faces, smashing wine bottles over heads. This was nothing like the orderly training drills of the Mechagnome monks. Street fighting, as Trippy discovered, <em>had</em> no sense of order. Punch, punch, deflect, kick, sidestep around the unconscious pirate, and hope you didn't get shot.</p><p>Flynn, though, seemed to be in his element. Trippy saw him dodge this way and that, avoiding blades and gunshot like some sort of slippery eel. He disappeared into stealth, only to reappear behind his target and knock them out. Combat was almost like some sort of dance, and she noticed that while he took down Mad Dog Burns's men, he made sure not to <em> kill </em> anyone. <br/><br/>Which was rather odd for a pirate, especially since Mad Dog Burns had attacked <em> him </em> , not the other way round. Trippy didn’t have much time to contemplate this puzzle, though.<br/><br/>"Let 'er rip!" Cook yelled. His assistants heaved the pot onto its side and bubbling fish oil poured out. It covered the floor and spread like a wave of molasses. Kul Tirans might have put fish oil in everything they ate, but they certainly didn't <em>bathe</em> in it. The few unlucky ones caught in the flood ran out the door, screaming bloody murder at the tops of their lungs, while attracting every seagull in Boralus.</p><p>Other combatants leapt onto chairs and tables. for as the oil cooled, it congealed into an awful mess. Flynn for his part just heaved himself onto the polished wood of the bar and kept fighting.<br/><br/>"You're gonna pay for the clean up!" Tyrus hollered over the din. <br/><br/>"Me?! I'm not the one who spilled fish oil all over the place!" Flynn retorted. He jumped, grabbed onto the second floor railing and swung himself up, with Mad Dog Burns and two others in pursuit.<br/><br/>Trippy raced up the stairs to help him, but then she saw Tabitha defending herself with the leftover remains of a fish stew. Trippy tucked herself into a ball and rolled across the floor. She bowled right into the legs of the barmaid’s attacker. The man cursed, struggled back up to his feet...only to get clocked in the face with Tabitha’s tray. Fish guts went flying as the man went down. <br/><br/>“Thanks, lass,” Tabitha gasped, “but you’d better get outta here while you still can. The Proudmoore Guard’ll be here any second.” <br/><br/>“I’ll be alright, you should go get help,” Trippy said.  If only the Monks at the Temple of the Eternal Gears could see her now! <br/><br/>She downed another gulp of brew and went to find Flynn. They needed to get out of here, preferably <em>before</em> the local authorities arrived. The second floor of the pub held private rooms, and she peeked into the ones that she passed. Most of them hadn't been occupied, but armoires and drawers stood open, as if someone had rifled through them. Pillows and comforters thrown on the floor, mattresses sliced as if valuables had been hidden there.<br/><br/>Someone had been looking for something. Was the attack on Flynn merely a diversion, or did he have something to do with it? Whoever the searcher was, they didn't do a very thorough or neat job of it. Her foot crunched on something and she took a step back. It was a small piece of what looked to be ivory, with blue and gold enamel decoration on it. Trippy tucked it into her belt for later. If Flynn didn't know what it was, she could find someone who did.</p><p>She didn't find him on the second floor, so she turned and headed back to the main bar area. Most of the combatants were down, and the smell of fish oil was almost overpowering. Then she spotted him, pinned against the wall by the Worgen pirate twice his size...and Flynn wasn’t a small man. She hefted another one of her kegs, jumped off the railing, skidded across the polished wood of the bar on mechanical feet, leaped, and cracked the keg over the Worgen’s head. The beer soaked the wolf man from head to foot, and he dropped Flynn like a sack of potatoes. The Worgen howled as he clawed alcohol out of his eyes.<br/><br/>“Ew! Waste of good brew!” Flynn yelled.  <br/><br/>She yelled back, “Get down!” <br/><br/>Flynn hit the floor as she reared back and breathed out a lick of fire. It caught the Worgen’s clothing and he screamed in panic as he tried to beat the flames out. "The little robot’s <em> set me on fire!” </em>he howled as he ran out the door, fish oil sparking and smoking in his wake. A minute later there was a splash, as he presumably dove off the nearest dock and into the waters off Boralus.</p><p>“You gotta teach me that trick,” Flynn gasped. He looked up, grabbed Trippy and ducked under the nearest table, just in time. Mad Dog Burns’ gunshot blast blackened the wall right where they’d been standing. <br/><br/>“Come out and fight me like a man, Fairwind!” <br/><br/>“Well, I usually don’t mind a party, but Mad Dog crashing it is just rude.” He narrowed his eyes at the pirate as they crouched under the table. Flynn was no longer the suave charmer; the blue eyes were colder than Northrend ice. “And he’s ruder than most.”</p><p>Trippy grimaced. “You must have really made him mad.”</p><p>“Yeah, but <em> he </em> started it, and it's time to <em> end </em> it before too many people get hurt.” He flashed a smile. "You with me?”</p><p>She beamed brightly up at him. Suddenly she understood how this man was able to charm anyone around him. He may have been a scoundrel, but he was a <em>sincere</em> scoundrel. “Yes!”</p><p>Flynn clapped her on the shoulder, then winced when he realized that shoulder was pure steel. He wiggled his fingers to make sure they still worked. “That’s a good lass. Well, once more into the fray and all that!” </p><p>She took a healthy swig of Ox Brew from her belt and was in again, fists flying. By this time, the floor was littered with unconscious pirates and bar patrons, but there were more of Mad Dog’ Burns’s men than the Salt and Shanty Brigade. Somehow she ended up back to back with Flynn, staff at the ready.</p><p>“You’re surrounded five against one,” Mad Dog Burns snarled. He brandished his pistol, triumph in his one remaining good eye.</p><p>“Two,” Trippy piped up.</p><p>Mad Dog Burns’s glare snapped down to Flynn’s ankle level. “<em> Two</em>,” he drawled with a wide smirk. “Didn’t know you picked up a mechanical pet in the Market, Fairwind. She could fetch a lotta money on the black market."</p><p>Flynn scowled and his grip tightened on his cutlass. Trippy could feel the anger rolling off him. “She’s got more in her fist than in your entire brain, Mad Dog.”</p><p>“Cute.” He aimed his pistol at them. “Any last words?”<br/><br/>“Yeah.” Flynn said. He pointed to a spot somewhere behind Mad Dog Burns’s left shoulder. “Don’t look.”<br/><br/>Mad Dog Burns nearly turned in that direction, but he stopped and snapped back towards them. “ Ha! I’m not fallin’ for <em> that </em> trick, Fairwind.” He cocked his pistol and took aim. “I’m gonna enjoy this--” <br/><br/>CRACK! <br/><br/>His posture stiffened, his eyes rolled up into his head, and Mad Dog Burns fell flat on his face onto the floor, right into a thick muck of congealed oil. <br/><br/>Trippy’s mouth fell open as she saw a man with red hair step forward. He reversed the dagger in his grip after he’d struck the pirate in the back of the head with the leather pommel. The other pirates turned to face him...then froze at the contingent of Proudmoore Guard behind the leather-clad rogue. <br/><br/>“Stealth is a very good thing,” Flynn said to Trippy out of the corner of his mouth. “The cavalry’s here.” <br/><br/>The rogue looked at their merry hunting ground with a distasteful look, then over at Flynn. “I can't leave you by yourself for two <em>minutes</em> without you getting into trouble, can I?” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Trippy Meets the Spymaster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trippy meets Shaw, and she makes a few observations about him and Flynn. Meanwhile, the plot thickens more than congealed fish oil.</p>
<p>A bit of not-so-innocent banter at Flynn's expense. We all know what happens when you assume something...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It took a while to get the mess all sorted. Tyrus hollered about compensation for the damage to the Salt and Shanty, since there was a considerable amount, from the broken windows to the mess on the floor. Trippy watched as the Guard tried to calm him down while trying to figure out just <em>what</em> happened. Cook took responsibility for the fish oil, but argued it had employed as a defensive measure,much like boiling oil over the walls of Fort Daelin. Even Tabitha said her piece. Who knew that fish guts qualified as weaponry?<br/><br/>Trippy had to admit that Kul Tirans knew how to band together in a common cause when the time came. <br/><br/>"What'll we do with this one, eh, Spymaster?" One of the Guard prodded the unconscious heft of Mad Dog Burns with his toe. The pirate moaned but didn't wake.<br/><br/>"I'm sure your superiors will want to have a word with him when he wakes up," the redhead replied. "I'll leave him in your capable hands, Captain."<br/><br/>"Aye then. C'mon, Mad Dog, on yer feet. Lockup's too good for ye, if you ask me." The captain and four of his men dragged the pirate to his feet and marched him out the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obviously, the Alliance considered the Brawl a wholly Kul Tiran affair, and left the aftermath in the capable hands of the Proudmoore Guard.  At least, that seemed to be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>official</span>
  </em>
  <span> ruling from the redheaded Rogue.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Which left the question of why the Rogue was here in the first place.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Flynn perched on the top of a table. He seemed to be in relatively high spirits. “Timely save, mate. Thanks.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The Spymaster focused a steely glare at him. He definitely was <em>not</em> happy with Flynn for some reason. It reminded Trippy of someone who expected better and wasn't surprised he didn't get it. “I wasn’t expecting you to start a bar fight when you said you’d meet with your contacts, Flynn.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Flynn bristled under the scrutiny. “Hey, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t start it. Mad Dog Burns did. I was telling Trippy here--” He gestured at her as she sat on the polished wood of the bar and tried to get cold fish oil out of her gears. “--all about how I met the Mad Dog and lo and behold, the man himself shows up and starts harassing me and everyone in the bar. I was just trying to keep my head above the fray, Shaw. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be fish chum long before you showed up.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The rogue--Shaw-- gracefully sat next to her, and out of seemingly nowhere, produced a cloth and a bottle of some sort of liquid. She recognized it as a cleaning solution. "</span>
  <span>I know a few Gnome engineers,” he told her in a matter-of-fact tone. “This will help.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Thank you,” she replied as she accepted the bottle with a nod. “For this, and for saving us.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“The Mechagnomes are an ally of the Alliance.” That seemed to be an appropriate answer, though it sounded more official than the situation warranted. “Are you all right, Champion?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Trippy nodded again. The man </span>
  <em>
    <span>seemed</span>
  </em>
  <span> concerned, but the formal tone just didn’t suit him for some reason. At a closer glance, she thought he would have been more attractive if he smiled. Red hair, a mustache that was probably distinctive among Humans, though still rather short for a Gnome man. Leather armor with ridiculous gold pauldrons that she’d expected more from a Paladin than a Rogue. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She had the feeling he didn’t smile that often. Serious, standoffish...it was as if he actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to push people away instead of encouraging them to be close.He was probably successful a lot of the time, she thought. A pity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked up at him and asked, “‘Champion’?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“That’s what we call the Alliance adventurers that go through Boralus.” He inclined his head, sharp green eyes scrutinizing her from head to mechanical foot. “Though I don’t recall ever seeing you, and forgive me for saying it, but you aren’t easy to forget. Most Champions stop by the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wind’s Redemption</span>
  </em>
  <span> before going elsewhere.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Flynn hauled himself back up on Trippy’s other side. “She just got here, Shaw. From Mechagon. You know they’ve got a </span>
  <em>
    <span>monastery</span>
  </em>
  <span> on that island. What is it, Trippy? ...Eternal Gears?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Trippy nodded. “The Monastery of Eternal Gears. Harmony through the merging of the organic and the inorganic. It’s a small temple. Not many know about it.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hm...there are monastic orders all over Pandaria. I’m sure they’d be curious to talk to someone of your order.” There was the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “I’m Spymaster Mathias Shaw, Stormwind Intelligence.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Tripwyre Cracklefist. It is a pleasure to meet you, Spymaster.” She extended a hand to him and he shook it. “I came here from Mechagon to explore and experience life outside the island, and report back to Prince Erazmin.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Dampwick Ward is an interesting first choice to ‘experience’ Azerothian culture,” Shaw said dryly. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s the real deal, nothing edited, nothing held back,” Flynn spoke up. “Imagine if she went to Darnassus first. Or Stormwind. Might color her outlook on how we really live.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Again, that elusive smile, as if Shaw was amused and tried not to let Flynn know. Trippy wondered why he was going to great lengths to hide his emotions. The two men were polar opposites in temperament. The spymaster strove to act closed off and remote, while the pirate simply spoke whatever crossed his mind.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>And they worked together? Interesting.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Flynn’s told me about what happened, but I’d like to hear your version of events.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Trippy nodded and told him everything, from her arrival at the Salt and Shanty to Mad Dog Burns’s rude interruption and the pub brawl. When she mentioned how the bedrooms on the second floor had been ransacked, Shaw looked up at Flynn with a sharp expression.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Show us,” he said.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She nodded and stood up on the bar, then lightly hopscotched from table to table, over a few chairs, to the railing on the second floor. She extended her arms up to lever her body over to the landing, and landed with a grinding of gears. Then she tiptoed and looked over the edge. To her surprise, Shaw followed her path as nimbly as she had. He wasn't as tall or as broad as some of the Human or Kul Tiran men she'd seen, and he obviously kept himself in fighting trim. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“She could be a rogue with moves like that,” Flynn commented as he scrambled to keep up with them.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“There are some Pandaren monks who are with the Shado Pan,” Shaw replied. “They don’t make the distinction between monk and spy.” He gracefully pulled himself up onto the landing, then gave a hand to Flynn. The Kul Tiran didn’t even seem winded from the exertion.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You gotta run up the rigging sometimes to trim and adjust the sails of a ship,” he said to Trippy. “If you don’t focus on your balance, you fall straight down to the deck. Makes a terrible mess.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She nodded. It made logical sense, but the pirate never ceased to amaze her. If he could keep up with her and the Spymaster...</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Shaw’s expression darkened as he looked at the damage in the rooms. Whatever good humor he had before evaporated like mist, and his face set in serious lines. It was almost like he'd flipped a switch, and Trippy shifted at the look. “Someone was looking for something up here, probably while you were all fighting down below. Not a very effective search, from the looks of it.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Wonder what for. Salt and Shanty’s not the Zandalari treasury.” Flynn poked at a pile of discarded blankets on the floor. “Cache of gold? Artifacts? Azerite? Blackmail pictures?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Split up and have a look around, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to touch anything more than necessary.” That last bit seemed to be directed at Flynn in particular.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He smirked. “I’m an honest man, Shaw. At least I’ll ask first before touching something inappropriate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trippy blinked, not getting the nuance of the remark, at least until she saw Shaw’s face turn as red as his hair. To his credit, the Spymaster didn’t deign to dignify that with an answer.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She scrutinized the floor, but aside from blankets, pillows and curtains all strewn about, there were no footprints, no sign of disturbance. The mattresses had been sliced with perhaps a dagger or a sword, but judging from the irregular tears, Trippy surmised the blades hadn’t been very sharp. The drawers had been emptied, the contents thrown all over the place. Perfume, oils, knicknacks, counterfeit Kul Tiran coins, the stray bit of fake jewelry…oddly shaped mechanical devices that buzzed at the touch of a button or a magical rune. <br/><br/></span>
  <span>"Uh...careful with those," Flynn told her. "Might wanna leave those alone."<br/><br/>Trippy gave him a nonplussed look. "I have no need for these sorts of devices, though I am aware of their function."<br/><br/>Flynn choked on laughter, and Shaw's face reddened again. The Spymaster was deliberately <em>not</em> looking at them, though he looked like he was biting his lip. Hard. "Just checking. Dunno what you folk know or don't know."<br/><br/>"I would be happy to discuss the matter with you at a later time, Flynn."<br/><br/>This time, there was a snort of laughter from Shaw, though he quickly suppressed it. Just the look on the pirate's face...Flynn stammered, "Ah, that's not necessary, Trippy, really. There are things that really should stay private."<br/><br/>"If that is what you like."<br/><br/>Flynn beat a hasty retreat, muttering, "Don't flirt with a Mechagnome. Okay, got it."<br/><br/>Trippy shrugged. It seemed that Humans--and Kul Tirans--had a strange reticence when it came to certain natural subjects. Shaw hadn't said a word, either, though his body temperature did rise a degree or two.<br/><br/>The other rooms were in a similar state, but Trippy noticed nothing of value seemed to be missing. Granted, the Salt and Shanty was *not* the Zandalari treasury, but the haphazard manner made her wonder if this was done just to be petty against Tyrus. <br/></span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Seems like a lot of effort for very little to show of it,” Flynn commented. “They might not have found what they were looking for.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Apparently, they thought there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> of value up here,” Shaw said, “or otherwise they wouldn’t have bothered--” he paused as he spotted something jutting out of the frame of the bed.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What?” Flynn asked.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Shaw knelt and pulled out something from under the bed frame. Trippy frowned and looked at the piece in the Spymaster’s hand. It was about the size of a domino, made of ivory, with blue and gold enamel carvings in the front. There was a ragged edge where the piece had been broken. Shaw carefully turned it over in his palm. They saw a green flag with an anchor etched on the back of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the Proudmoore standard,” Flynn said. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“A token of some sort?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>She suddenly remembered the piece she’d found earlier. Her hand slipped into her belt and she brought it out. “I found this earlier while I was looking for Flynn during the fight.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Shaw took her piece and examined the break. The two halves slotted together perfectly. The blue and gold enamel formed characters on the front, while the Proudmoore flag was on the back.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Those aren’t not Kul Tiran characters,” Flynn said. “I’m not sure what that is. The flag, though, is definitely House Proudmoore.”</span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Shaw nodded, his eyes unreadable. “I think a visit to the Lord Admiral is in order.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Tale of Two Ships</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trippy finally gets to Boralus. She meets Lady Jaina Proudmoore and High Commander Halford Wyrmbane, as well as Flynn's First Mate. Jaina and Wyrmbane notice the same thing between Shaw and Flynn. The plot thickens as Flynn volunteers for a mission.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trippy stood on the dock in front of the <em> Wind’s Redemption. </em> She had to admit...the Alliance’s flagship in Kul Tiras was most impressive. Mechagon never had a seafaring fleet of its own. Her people had been isolated from the rest of the mainland for centuries, until Prince Erazmin and High Tinkerer Gelbin Mekkatorque reunited their people. <br/><br/>She sighed. Shaw had mentioned that most ‘Champions’ stopped by the ship on their way to other parts of Kul Tiras. He hadn’t said just how <em> many </em> people visited the deck. Tall, graceful Kaldorei (‘Night Elves, you should try their kimchi’, Flynn helpfully told her), short, squat Dwarves (‘they make good beer’) and graceful, roly-poly Pandaren (‘jolly, great cooks’). Trippy hadn’t seen such a varied assortment of people in her life. <br/><br/>It would be so easy to just stand there on the dock and watch the goings-on. There was always <em>something </em> happening. Boralus was the center of Alliance life here in Kul Tiras, but there was a distinct sense of urgency, as if the next world-shattering cataclysm was just around the corner. Flynn pointed out the Harbormaster's Office and the Portal Room nearby, as well as the bustling cadre of merchants and 7th Legion soldiers around. <br/><br/>“There she is, my ship, the <em> Middenwake </em> .” Flynn said. He pointed to the next berth. Trippy’s eyes widened at the sturdy vessel, with proud sails and a bow high in the water. Like her master, the <em> Middenwake </em> showed its share of adventure. Her sharp eyes saw where the hull had been damage and repaired. The main mast had been cracked in at least two places and redone. <br/><br/>Flynn's crew busied themselves on the deck. Two sailors rolled up the spare sails, while others tidied up and packed away equipment. There was a relaxed aura among the crew, although they were no less busy than the crowd aboard <em>Wind's Redemption</em>. Trippy was amazed at the contrast between the two ships.</p><p>“Hey, Cap’n!’ The First Mate waved from the crow's nest. He was a bright eyed, bushy tailed fox. He gracefully climbed out and scampered down the rigging, finally touching down on the deck and perching himself on the <em>Middenwake</em>'s railing. He had a dusky orange color to his fur, ringed with black. Trippy thought he looked more at home in the desert than a seagoing vessel. <br/><br/>Flynn waved back with a bright smile. “Hey, Reg, how’s the ship?” <br/><br/>“Fixed those pesky leaks, and Hylo and Duartz are out gettin’ supplies right now.” Reg leaned forward on the railing to get a better look. He perched perfectly on it with his claws, without actually falling overboard.  “Looks like we got a new crew member?” <br/><br/>“She’s a guest for now. We’ll be on board soon’s this meeting is over.” <br/><br/>“Aye, aye, Cap’n. She’ll be ready for you.” <br/><br/>“Thanks, Reg.” Flynn turned to Trippy. “Reg’s a Vulpera, they’re from Voldun...you’ll get to meet him in a bit. What do you think of her?” <br/><br/>It took Trippy a moment to realize he was talking about the <em> Middenwake. </em> “She looks functional.” <br/><br/>“Aye, that she is.” Flynn replied with a proud grin. “Maybe after this business, I can take you aboard and you can meet her crew. You’ve never been on a ship before, yeah?” <br/><br/>“No, not before now. I look forward to it, Flynn.” <br/><br/>She made her way across the gangplank of the Wind’s Redemption, with Flynn following close behind. She headed for the main strategic table. Shaw was already there, as well as a white-haired mage in blue and gold. This must be the Lord Admiral herself, Jaina Proudmoore.  Trippy gaped at her for a long moment. The Lord Admiral seemed ageless, in that ethereal way, but her eyes spoke volumes. She nodded at Trippy with a slight smile. <br/><br/>A heavily armored Paladin stood next to Shaw. His helmet covered most of his face, except his eyes and the hint of a gray beard. He split his attention between the traffic on the<em> Wind’s Redemption</em> and the Lord Admiral. Trippy had the impression of a kindly, if rather weary, father figure. <br/><br/>“Excuse me?” <br/><br/>The Paladin looked around, startled out of his thoughts. Trippy sighed again and gave a not-quite gentle pull of his cloak. “I’m down here.” <br/><br/>He looked down with a chagrined expression. “Forgive me, I was rather distracted. May I help you?” <br/><br/>Trippy felt rather sorry for him, having to deal with so many things at once. “It’s all right, it happens. My name is Trippy Cracklefist--” <br/><br/>“Ah, you’re the friend of Master Shaw’s. Go right ahead, Mistress Cracklefist.” <br/><br/>“Thank you.” She reached out and squeezed a gauntleted hand. The Paladin seemed surprised at the contact, but he managed a genuine smile. <br/><br/>“...yes, I’ve seen this before,” Lady Proudmoore was saying. She turned the piece of ivory in her hands. “It is a token of goodwill between House Proudmoore and certain neutral agents in Kul Tiras.” <br/><br/>Shaw’s eyebrows shot up. “Neutral agents.” <br/><br/>“As you well know, Kul Tiras is home to people with vital information. Some do occasionally work with me...through intermediaries, of course.” Lady Proudmoore looked at Flynn, who coughed and shrugged goodnaturedly. <br/><br/>“Of course.” The Spymaster looked like he knew exactly what Lady Proudmoore was talking about. Trippy figured it was some sort of spy business. Shaw looked over at Flynn and some sort of unspoken conversation passed between the two. Now that Trippy knew what to look for, she noticed that Shaw didn’t seem the bit surprised. <br/><br/>Flynn, though, looked like a man caught with his hand in the Treasury. <em> It seems that he can’t hide anything from the Spymaster, </em> Trippy thought, <em> though he makes everyone else think he’s harmless. </em> <br/><br/>Lady Proudmoore’s voice brought her back to reality. “The language on this token is Pandaren. The only one who I know with such influence is Madam Gosu.” <br/><br/>“Gosu?!” Flynn asked with a look of surprise. “She works for you?” <br/><br/>She gave him a humorless smile. “We have an <em> agreement</em>. Madam Gosu works for one person, and if it doesn’t benefit herself in some way, she won’t even give you the time of day.” <br/><br/>Trippy tugged on Flynn’s coat and asked, “Who’s Madam Gosu?” <br/><br/>“She’s Pandaren, has a little shop out on Hook Point.” Flynn looked at Trippy. “If you need something, she can get it for you, for a price.” <br/><br/>“Ah...she’s a supplier of sorts?” <br/><br/>Lady Proudmoore nodded. “Of a sort. She rarely meets with a customer face to face, unless…” She held up the token, “one has <em> this </em> .” <br/><br/>“The question becomes who is her customer, and why did something so important end up in the Salt and Shanty,” Shaw spoke for the first time. <br/><br/>“Indeed. To my knowledge, no one in my family issued a token to anyone recently. I certainly haven’t. Whoever it is, either they are acting without Proudmoore authority, or someone stole this token and is using it for their own ends.” <br/><br/>Trippy inclined her head, the sound of servo gears grinding to match the thoughts in her head. “And that someone lost it, tore up the tavern looking for it, and we found it?” <br/><br/>Flynn grinned at her. “Brilliant girl.” <br/><br/>Shaw’s mouth twitched at the pirate’s praise. <em> Is he trying not to smile?  </em> Trippy thought. <em> Why does he always feel he has to be serious all the time? No wonder Flynn tries to annoy him at times. </em> <em> <br/></em> <em> <br/></em> “It certainly seems that way.” Lady Proudmoore addressed Trippy directly, instead of over her head as most people did. “I’ve never met Madame Gosu in person...as I said we go through intermediaries, for both of our safeties. If I sent someone to inquire about this…” </p><p>“Send me,” Flynn said. “I know her.” <br/><br/>Shaw looked over at him. “Flynn--`</p><p>“C’mon. I’ve acted as the middleman before, Shaw. I know how she operates, and she’s seen me. Besides, I’m trustworthy. Usually.” Flynn spread open his hands in a goodnatured gesture of <em> You know it’s true. </em> “If we send someone else who isn’t familiar with her, she might get suspicious.” <br/><br/>The Paladin spoke up in a calm tone that Trippy thought sounded rather, well, fatherly. “He has a point, Master Shaw. If we send one of your agents or one my 7th Legion Paladins, that would alert her that something is amiss.” <br/><br/>Flynn grinned at the armored man. “See, even Wyrmbane agrees with me.” <br/><br/>Shaw blew out a frustrated breath. Judging by how much trouble Flynn managed to get into all by himself, Trippy didn’t blame him. “I’m coming with you, to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” <br/><br/>“You don’t have to do that--” <br/><br/>“I’ll be <em> stealthed, </em> just like at the Salt and Shanty.” <br/><br/>“I <em> knew </em> you were following me--” <br/><br/>“Don’t fight me on this one, Flynn.” <br/><br/>Trippy noticed the look that passed between Lady Proudmoore and Wyrmbane. It was hard to be sure, but was there a slight smirk on the Paladin’s face? Lady Proudmoore only smiled at him, as if the two shared some sort of secret. <br/><br/>So it wasn’t just her who had seen something between the pirate and the spymaster. <br/><br/>“Fine,” Flynn said. “If it makes you feel better.” <br/><br/>Shaw only shrugged. “I’m just looking after your best interests. It’d be a pity for Lady Proudmoore to lose one of her people.” <br/><br/>“Admit it, Spymaster, you just don’t want me to get into too much trouble.” <br/><br/>“We’ve seen just how much trouble you get in.” <br/><br/>Trippy sighed and looked up at Flynn. It was time for some distraction. “Can I come along too?”</p><p>“Sure! See, I have a Mechagnome Monk looking after me! We’re gonna be okay.”<br/><br/>Shaw gave her an exasperated look, but she only shrugged. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to Flynn, and she was sure the Spymaster was going to do the same.<br/><br/>"Fine," Shaw said. "As long as she goes with you. Mistress Cracklefist, we've seen how you are in combat. You're observant. I have every confidence that you could keep our resident pirate out of mischief."<br/><br/>"Hey! We make a good team!"<br/><br/>Trippy smiled. "Yes, Spymaster." She saw Lady Proudmoore's smile and heard Wyrmbane's quiet snort of laughter. Yes, they definitely saw the same thing she did, and oddly enough, they seemed to tacitly approve. If they had no issue with it, then Trippy didn't either.<br/><br/>Flynn nodded in satisfaction. "Well, that's out of the way, I promised Trippy here a tour of the <em>Middenwake. </em>You coming along, Shaw?"<br/><br/>"You two go ahead...I have some paperwork to catch up on, unfortunately."<br/><br/>"Your loss." He smiled and bowed to Lady Proudmoore. "Until later, m'Lady. Shall we, Trippy?"<br/><br/>She followed him off <em>Wind's Redemption</em> and walked the short distance to the <em>Middenwake. </em>Although Trippy couldn't see Shaw, he could feel his eyes following them. It was hard to tell if Flynn noticed it too, for he kept up a steady stream of chatter about his crew and how she was going to love everyone one of them.<br/><br/>Then again, he probably did. </p>
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